


Trust

by nsyncgrrl



Category: Music RPF, NSYNC, Pop Music RPF, Popslash
Genre: 1990s, 2000s, Boyband, Celebrities, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29448663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nsyncgrrl/pseuds/nsyncgrrl
Summary: This is an mprov I wrote in a chat. I had to use the words bitch, echoes, and field hockey. It's very short.Joey asks Chris to prove that he trusts him.
Relationships: Joey Fatone/Chris Kirkpatrick
Kudos: 2





	Trust

"Sit your ass down," Chris said. He chucked the remote at Joey, who stood in front of the television set, hands on his hips like Superman standing over the world. "Your parents weren't glass makers. I can't see the TV."

Joey reached for the remote. "There's nothing good on anyway," he said, pouting. "Turn it off and follow me."

"No," Chris said. He leaned over to see past Joey. "Move it, Fatone. 'Fore I have to kick your ass."

Joey laughed and tugged the remote free from Chris's hand. "It's just field hockey, Chris," he said, clicking off the TV. "And I know you're not watching it for the girls."

"Maybe I am," Chris replied, frowning. "Turn it back on."

"I got a better idea," Joey said, his chocolate eyes lighting up prettily.

Chris narrowed his eyes. "And what would that be?" he asked, suspicious.

"Follow me," Joey said. He left the living room, not turning to see if Chris obeyed him or not.

Chris told himself he didn't want to follow Joey. He didn't. Last week he had gotten shit-faced at a party after one of their shows and kissed Joey full on the lips, just playing around, or so he told himself. He blamed it on the alcohol and the crowds and the way Joey's eyes were too bright that night, his lips too pink, but if he was going to be completely honest with himself? He had always wanted to do that.

Since their first days as a group, he had always sensed this strong desire that radiated from Joey like a thick scent, heady and intoxicating. Chris wanted to taste that, to hold it in his hands and breathe it in deeply, to wake up with the miasma clinging to him.

But Joey was his best friend, and despite the fact that they could talk about anything, anything at all, Chris was loathed to tell Joey that. What would he say? _Joe, you make me sleepless. You make me horny. I just want to put you in my pocket and keep you away from the rest of the world._ The very thought of confessing all that to Joey was anathema to Chris.

Still, this was Joe. And try as he might, Chris could never say no to him. So he hauled himself up off the couch and followed Joey out into the kitchen, where he held one of Justin's rhinestone studded bandannas between his hands. He looked up as Chris entered and asked softly, "Do you trust me?"

Chris swallowed thickly. "Trust?" he squeaked, hating the sound of his own voice. "What do you mean?"

"Do you trust me?" Joey repeated again. He snapped the bandanna tight between his hands and grinned impishly. "Yes or no, Chris, this isn't multiple choice."

_ Fuck, _ Chris thought. "Yes," he said.

"Then close your eyes." Chris did as commanded. He felt the soft fabric of the bandanna placed over his eyes, sensed Joey's arms on either side of his head, and then felt the bandanna tied into a tight knot at the back of his head. He touched the bandanna and Joey tightened it more. "Can you see?" he asked.

"Fuck," Chris said, trying to slip his fingers beneath the taut cloth. "It's too damn tight, Joe. My head will ache like a bitch."

"Sorry," Joey replied, loosening the bandanna just slightly. "That better?" he asked.

Chris nodded. Reaching out, his hands found Joey's chest, and he felt one of Joey's nipples, hard through his thin t-shirt, before pulling his hands back quickly. "What is this for?"

"I want to see how much you trust me," Joey said. He stepped back and took one of Chris's hands in his. "Don't worry," he said softly, and Chris was surprised to find that of the many emotions warring inside his body right now, worry wasn't one of them.

Chris felt Joey tug on his hand slightly. "Walk this way, Chris," Joey said, and Chris complied. He heard the kitchen door open, felt a draft of cool air curl around his legs, and he stopped. "Where are we going?" he asked, uneasy.

"Trust me," Joey said again.

"Okay," Chris mumbled, stepping forward. Joey's hand was warm in his, and Chris found himself squeezing it tightly. He had never held Joey's hand before.

Suddenly Joey breathed in his ear. "Watch your step," he said. Chris stumbled out onto the porch anyway, flustered, but Joey's arms caught his and he heard Joey's infectious laughter. "Whoa!" he said, and Chris could hear the grin in his voice. "A little overeager there, aren't we?"

"Shut up," Chris muttered. "This isn't fun, Joe."

"It will be," Joey said. He led Chris out into the yard, telling him when to step down, and this time Chris didn't stumble on the stairs. He heard the swish of their feet through the tall grass, and then Joey said, "Sit down."

"Here?" Chris asked. He didn't know where "here" was.

"Yes," Joey replied. "Sit down." His hands pushed Chris's shoulders, and Chris folded his legs beneath him as he sat down on the grass.

For a long moment Joey didn't say anything. "Joe?" Chris asked. "I'm waiting."

Still nothing. "Joe?" Chris asked again, a little nervous this time. He strained to hear something, anything, Joey's breath, the wind through the trees, _some_ thing.

And then he heard someone walking through the grass, walking away. "Hey!" Chris cried as he heard the echoes of footsteps on the wooden porch. "Joe, come back here! This isn't cool!"

He raised his hands to tear off the bandanna. "Don't touch that!" Joey cried, and he was on the porch. Chris was livid with rage.

"Play me like this," he muttered under his breath, his fingers working the knot of the bandanna. Damn but Joey had tied it good. "You _know_ how I feel about you, Joe, at least I think you do, and still you go and fuck with me like this. This isn't funny. This is just cruel, plain cruel."

He heard Joey's rapid approach as he managed to work the knot free. As the bandanna slipped off his eyes, Chris stood up, his face twisting in anger. Turning to Joey, he demanded, "Just what the hell --"

Joey stood there with a single red rose in his hand. The color matched the blush in his cheeks perfectly. "For you," he said, lowering his gaze. "I just ... I couldn't just give it to you, Chris. Jeez." He grinned at the surprised look on Chris's face. "If I ask nice enough, you think you can kiss me again?"


End file.
